


Happy Endings For Monsters

by Yuripaws



Series: Wolfsbane [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Vampire Victor Nikiforov, Vampires, Werewolf Katsuki Yuuri, Werewolves, some alcohol involved but everything's consensual of course, yoispookyweek, yuri on ice spooky week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuripaws/pseuds/Yuripaws
Summary: Viktor makes good on his promise to show Yuuri the world after the events of Wolfsbane.Written for Day 1 of Yuri on Ice Spooky Week. Prompt: Vampires.





	Happy Endings For Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! Been a while since I posted, huh... I'm working on updates as well as a few projects, but I love Halloween so much that I had to take the time and write this little sequel ficlet for Wolfsbane ^^ It's mostly silly fluff, but I hope you enjoy!

The sun is a mere suggestion along the horizon, a warm glow nearly extinguished by the vast darkness above and beyond. Yuuri watches it closely from the balcony, fingers drumming an impatient beat against the iron railing. He’s learned the precise timing of the blazing star by now, regardless of the season, but his nerves are never so easily soothed by this knowledge. One misstep can be fatal, and so he cannot act too hastily. He’s always assured otherwise, but he’d much rather trust his own instincts, as fearful as they are.

At last, he enters the lavish hotel room to kneel down by the large trunk beside the armoire, slowly lifting the lid. Nestled into the piles of clothing is a small black box, and this Yuuri extracts carefully, so as not to jostle it. Something is already stirring within, stretching and scrabbling about gently.

Yuuri unclasps and opens the box to reveal a small white bat clinging to the soft velvet cushion beneath it. It awakens fully as he strokes it, then crawls up his arm to bury into the crook of his elbow. Yuuri smiles.

“It’s time to wake up, Viktor. I can’t kiss you like this, you know.”

The words have hardly left his mouth before there’s suddenly a man much larger than him in his lap, bowling him over and onto the floor. Yuuri’s head hits the wood with a dull thud, drawing a long and pained groan from him as a heavy weight settles onto his middle. The lamplight is obscured, the figure above him casting him into darkness, but he can make out the features he knows so well, and the mischievous gleam of that smile.

“Will you kiss me now, Yuuri?”

_ Please stop crushing my lungs _ , Yuuri wants to say, but instead he reaches out to pull Viktor down and kiss him soundly. It’s always thrilling, slipping an adventurous tongue past Viktor’s lips to graze his pointed fangs. He would certainly have the marks to prove how dearly he loves the feeling, if it weren’t for his healing.

No, no scars for this werewolf, aside from the ones raked across his face when he was turned.

As though reading his thoughts -- which he very well may have -- Viktor breaks their kiss slowly, brushing a thumb over the raised edge of one scar, just under an eye. They run like great claw marks across the bridge of his nose, plain for all the world to see. Which is something Yuuri tries to avoid at all costs, keeping to himself and wearing cloaks with deep hoods. Traveling with Viktor had taken a great deal of courage and steeled nerves, but it had been impossible to refuse such an adventure. And so he’d abandoned all caution and stepped into the light -- so to speak.

Yuuri wants to convey this in some way to Viktor, to thank him for bringing him here, for bringing him everywhere. Instead, he wheezes softly, still crushed -- but not minding too terribly if it’s Viktor doing said crushing. Viktor rolls off of him in an instant, stretching to his feet before helping him up with a cheeky grin.

“Do forgive me. You said the ‘k’ word and I couldn’t resist.”

“Yes, well, I think none of my ribs has collapsed,” Yuuri mutters, making a great show of patting his middle. He smiles in spite of himself, looking Viktor up and down appreciatively as though he hadn’t seen him in quite some time.

Traveling with a vampire is much harder than Yuuri had expected. Very few inns and hotels have special measures taken for sun-sensitive creatures, and carrying about a man-sized trunk along with their clothing trunk had been out of the question. Viktor had settled for a tightly sealed box and his bat form, which, while much more convenient, had meant that Yuuri had been left to sleep alone each day.

It’s odd, that Yuuri had gone for so long without seemingly trivial comforts, such as another person in his bed, but now can hardly last a handful of days lacking said comforts. It had cost him sleep at first, the vastness of the empty space beside him, until he’d learned to handle the loneliness. After all, it’s always temporary. Viktor always returns to him.

Viktor puts a hand at the small of Yuuri’s back as they exit onto the balcony, and Yuuri melts into comfort at last.

There’s an expensive bottle of wine chilling in a bucket atop the table, and Viktor sees to it immediately, pouring Yuuri a full glass and handing it over with a grin. He might as well hand him the entire bottle, because it often takes as much to get Yuuri any sort of drunk. He supposes it’s his ability to heal so quickly that prevents the mental fog and dulling of senses, though he can still feel the alcohol buzzing in his veins, impotent but very present.

They sit in comfortable silence and watch the city below them, a sweeping expanse of weathered buildings looming magnificently in their dense rows. More impressive is the canal winding its way through, narrow boats navigating the waters like so many lazily floating ducks. Yuuri wrinkles his nose at the smell and takes a long sip of his wine.

“How are you feeling?” Viktor asks, giving him a sidelong glance. Yuuri can sense that he wants to lay a hand on his, and is grateful that he doesn’t. It feels too much like pity. He knows that it isn’t.

“Fine. Full moon isn’t for another four days.”

Viktor nods and looks away, a small frown creasing his brow. Yuuri searches for something reassuring to say, but falls short.

It isn’t easy, traveling with a vampire, but it’s just as hard to travel with a werewolf.

His first full moon while on this new adventure with Viktor had been a disaster, to say the least. It had taken all of Viktor’s strength to keep him contained within the room of the secluded inn they’d chosen, barring the door and window and using himself as a distraction. To say they hadn’t expected this might happen would be an understatement. After all, Yuuri had calmed so easily back home, curling at Viktor’s feet and often sleeping the night away -- content and harmless.

Away from home, however, had been a different story entirely. Instead of the cowed beast tamed by Viktor’s love, he’d been a monster once more, tearing and slashing and ripping the room to bits. It’d taken an enormous bribe from the depths of Viktor’s coffers to assuage the distraught innkeeper, and they’d managed to slip away without further trouble the next night.

Yuuri knows that this has undone some of his progress in not feeling shame in his affliction. Viktor knows it, too. Memories of the incident had faded but not gone completely forgotten, so although they had continued their travels with their spirits still high, tension and unease had grown along with the moon hanging above.

He takes another sip of wine and lays his hand on Viktor’s. This is not the night for such thoughts.

Yuuri wants to think of other things, like the edge of Viktor’s jaw, or the ridge of his cheekbone, or the hollow of his throat. It’s as intoxicating as the wine is supposed to be, and he’s about three glasses in when he decides to do something about it. He’s missed Viktor’s presence far too much to allow them to sit so far apart for this long.

“Viktor.”

But Viktor is already looking at him, perhaps having sensed his intent. They read each other so easily as of late, Yuuri hardly has to speak before Viktor seems to understand. He raises his eyebrows.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“About as much as you will,” Yuuri says brazenly, tilting his head. The movement exposes more of his neck, and Viktor’s eyes trail down to its pulsing vein.

“Let’s --” Viktor says, making to stand, but Yuuri puts a hand on his arm.

“No. Out here. Right this very moment.”

Viktor stares in disbelief, and then in dawning approval. Yuuri knows this is unlike him, and it’s amusing to watch a confused but very excited Viktor scramble to obey. He leans forward in his chair until his lips brush against Yuuri’s cheek, then marks a path of gentle kisses to his neck. Yuuri sighs in satisfaction and takes another sip of wine.

The familiar feel of twin points against Yuuri’s skin has him shivering in delight before they even pierce his flesh. That sharp sting, that powerful pull, and Yuuri is slipping away, boneless in his chair and stifling a deeply sated groan.  _ God, _ he’s missed this.

_ Take me, take all of me. _

This desperate thought spurs Viktor on, and Yuuri feels him suck harder, feels a smooth hand travel up his chest to press light fingers against the other side of his throat. Yuuri squirms groans aloud this time, low and obscenely pleased, and doesn’t care that someone may have heard, or that someone may be watching. He’d gladly show the world that no one tastes so exquisite to Viktor quite like himself, even if they only appear as lovers embracing in the dark rather than beasts feasting. 

Just as Yuuri’s on the verge of letting out his boldest moan yet, legs spread and back arching, Viktor presses his tongue to the wound to close it, as he always does. Not having expected the feeding to end so soon, Yuuri stares in disappointed shock as Viktor pulls away clumsily, thin line of blood dribbling down his chin. This confuses and concerns Yuuri even further. Viktor’s never sloppy when he drinks, refusing to waste a single precious drop.

“Viktor?”

Viktor blinks. Shakes his head. Blinks again.

“Yuu...ri. I’m… dizzy?” He grins, looking dopey despite the gruesome rouge of his lips. His normally sharp blue eyes are unfocused and hazy.

Yuuri lets out a surprised snort of laughter. “Oh my -- Viktor, are you  _ drunk? ” _

It’s impossible for Viktor to have lived so long and not have supped on some poor drunken fool in an alleyway somewhere, so why is he giggling like a schoolchild, fresh blood rushing to his cheeks to ruddy his face? It’s so absurd that Yuuri can’t stop laughing. Viktor carelessly wipes the blood at his chin with a sleeve and swats at Yuuri’s arm.

“It’s --  _ stop _ \-- it isn’t, it’s  _ not _ \-- it’s not the same, Yuuri! It’s so  _ strong _ from you. You make me thrice as drunk. I’m -- oh, I’ve got it! It’s my love for you, it’s intoxicating, that’s it!”

“It is some sort of werewolf nonsense, more like,” Yuuri mumbles, but he’s grinning so widely that the dismissal falls flat. Viktor looks at him as though he’s the sun and the moon and the stars.

“It’s  _ me _ nonsense. I am nonsense for you, Yuuri,” Viktor says in earnest, reaching for the hand in Yuuri’s lap and missing entirely. “Oh,  _ hello _ \-- you seem to be nonsense for me too, if you understand my meaning.”

“Perhaps we’d better go inside after all,” Yuuri says hurriedly, scrambling to his feet and making for the bed.

To his surprise, he’s grabbed from behind. He’s surprised because it’s so gentle, these arms that wrap around his middle, the chin that rests on his shoulder. He leans back into the touch, a smile playing around his lips as Viktor presses a misaimed kiss to his ear.

“I will always love your werewolf nonsense, Yuuri. Don’t forget.”

Yuuri doesn’t.


End file.
